


Game Night

by CheshireCatnip



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Funny, Games, Gender-neutral Reader, M/M, Wholesome, genderless reader, just bros being pals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:23:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24461251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheshireCatnip/pseuds/CheshireCatnip
Summary: It’s Game Night with your favorite demons! This is purely wholesome fluff, with very light flirting with most of the boys at some point.Be sure to check out my other fluffs and smutty fics as well! C;
Relationships: Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Everyone, Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Everyone
Comments: 13
Kudos: 232





	Game Night

**Author's Note:**

> This fic idea won my wholesome reddit poll. I got stuck writing it so many times since it’s relatively pointless—just some cute junk I could work in for a casual night around House of Lamentation.  
> Please, enjoy! Kudos, comments, and constructive criticism is so appreciated!

“Heyheyheyheyhey—NO! Is that _another_ blue shell?!” Leviathan belted over his shoulder, swaying with the drift of his kart on the flatscreen. “Have you been holding onto that this whole last lap?!” 

Mammon chuckled darkly from his seat, leaning forward in focus as his character blew past his younger brother’s. 

“Ha! I told ya I’d get ya back for those banana peels!” he launched back, crossing the finish line a moment later and pumping a victory fist into the air. “Yes!” 

Levi groaned and dramatically tossed his head back, dropping his controller to the side of where he sat indian-style on the floor. 

You heard your name called from behind where you sat with Beelzebub, Belphegor and Asmodeus, in the middle of your own group’s game. You turned back in your seat, minding the cards in your hand. 

“Yeah?” 

Mammon flashed a grin at you. “Didja see I beat Levi _again_? He sucks at these racin’ games from your world!” 

Levi instantly reclaimed his controller, starting up another round. “Psh—it was just that map! Here, let’s play Rainbow Road instead! I bet you won’t win this one...” he trailed off, amber eyes squinting to gear up for the greenlight. 

Shaking your head with a laugh, you turned back to your game. “Who’s turn is it to read?” you asked, leaning into Asmo who sat to the side of you, braiding your hair. 

“I think it’s Beel’s turn,” Belphegor spoke up, handing his twin a black card. 

The Avatar of Gluttony took it, reading it over silently and instantly widening his eyes. You inwardly grinned, knowing how vulgar some of these cards could be and also knowing how honestly innocent Beel was. 

“This one says, _‘What brought the orgy to a grinding halt?’_ “ he avoided your eyes as he read it aloud. 

Asmo snorted, quickly reaching for his stack to sort through as he held the twist of your hair in one hand, not yet finished.  
“I’m winning this round, loves~” he declared, slapping his card to the middle of the table. 

Belphegor shrugged, moving to set his own down. “This card hasn’t made sense for anything yet, so I just want rid of it.” 

Exasperated, you frowned at the demon of sloth across from you. “Don’t sound too excited, Belphie,” you sighed, playing your card last. He merely yawned as response. 

Beel picked up the pile to read the assigned answers. “Ok, so: _‘What brought the orgy to a grinding halt?’_ ” he blushed the faintest amount as he reread the sentence before continuing, “there’s: _‘72 virgins’_ , _’A windmill full of corpses,’_ or _‘...Bees?’_ ” to which you giggled profusely. It was your favourite card to play. 

Beel looked to you, enjoying your laugh. He didn’t quite understand _Cards Against Humanity_ , but you loved it, so he liked playing it well enough whenever you were with him. 

“Ok, so which card is the winner, Beel?” you asked, smile still lingering. 

The orange haired demon simply handed you the black card, knowing by your giddiness which card was yours. If the word ‘bees’ got you that tickled, then he couldn’t resist giving you the win. 

Adding the black card to your growing stack, you danced a small jig in your seat while Asmodeus tsk’d at the three of you. 

“My _’72 virgins’_ card was definitely the best choice! Clearly none of you appreciate a decent orgy,” he grumbled, tying off the braid he was working on and flicking it against your cheek. 

“And my rolling death card wasn’t a good enough mood kill?” Belphie chimed. 

Asmo threw him a pout. “You know you shouldn’t argue sex with the Avatar of Lust.” 

You felt a foreign heat near your shoulder, and peered back to nearly press your cheek flush into Mammon’s. 

“What the hell kinda cards are these?” he stared, dumbfounded at your hand. The several you had were quite raunchy. He narrowed his eyes at a particular one, reading aloud: “ _‘A little boy who won’t shut the fuck up about dinosaurs’_?” Each of you cackled in sync at the absurdity of it.  
“How do ya even win this game?” 

Stretching his arms over his head in an attempt to wake up some, Belphie answered, “Basically whenever you get tired of playing. Which I am.” He crossed his arms out on the table, setting his head in the comfortable slope he created. “Tired, I mean.” He drove his point home with another long yawn. 

Throwing him an empathetic look, you began gathering up the cards to put away. “Yeah, the point system doesn’t really matter, it’s just meant to be funny,” you explained. 

Mammon scoffed, unimpressed. “What’s the point of a game ya can’t win? Or better yet, what’s the point of a game ya can’t _bet on_?” 

You rolled your eyes at the demon, shooing him with your hand. “It’s just fun! Not everything’s about easy money, you know!” 

He swatted back at your hand childishly, trying to grab at it. He plopped into a free seat near you, training his eyes over to the far side of the game room.  
“Now, that’s the game I should be bettin’ on.”

Seated on either side of an elaborate stone chess set were Lucifer and Satan. They’d been eerily quiet from the time they sat down continuing to now, which if you recalled correctly, was probably about three hours. Give or take. 

The energy from the two brothers was barring on chaotic. This was their third match of the night; each had a single victory under their belt and the next win would declare the victor. 

Curiosity to see the final showdown filled you, and you sauntered over to the two rivals. You swore the air felt colder the closer you got to them. 

“I’m gunna take Belphie upstairs and get some more snacks, okay?” Beel called to you, cradling the already sleeping twin in his arms. He always strived to be so considerate; he was truly the best big brother he could be. You nodded over your shoulder to him and noticed that the rest of the brothers had followed to gather around you, equally drawn to the intensity of the chess battle. 

You knelt by the table, annoyingly close. Honestly, you were just trying to get either of the brothers to even notice you. When the pairs of emerald and crimson eyes weren’t boring holes into the board, they were boring deeper holes into their opponent’s across the way. 

Chess had never seemed so interestingly violent until now. 

Not many pieces remained. Satan held his chin in his hand, focused, expression a fiery blaze as he looked over his options. 

Lucifer, on the other hand, sat straight in his chair and fairly rigid, appearing in every sense purely bored. Though, he’d never admit aloud that he thoroughly enjoyed the battle of wits. 

Rocking forward on the balls of your feet, you rested your head on the table, glancing back and forth between furious red and green gazes. 

A groan sounded from behind you. 

“This is why I don’t play these _normie_ games! Look how long they take! Where’s the excitement?” Levi whined, playing his Switch handheld now. He had to get better on that map! No way was he going to lose next time!

“That’s why I’m sayin’ we should place bets! C’mon, make it some kinda interestin’,” Mammon muttered in reply. 

“Just because those witches are up your back again this week doesn’t mean you’re going to talk us into gambling with you, Mammon,” Asmodeus chastised, curling up cozily in a reading chair to paint his nails instead of spectate. 

Defeated, the demon of Greed knelt by his human, watching along in silence. 

Finally a couple moves had been exchanged, leaving three on the board. Two kings and a bishop. You watched as Satan took his face in his hand, pinching the bridge of his nose with eyes closed. Lucifer looked no more pleased himself. 

You whipped your head between them, concern growing with their silence. “What?” 

Satan dragged in a long inhale before answering. 

“It’s a stalemate,” spoke the ever aggravated blonde. 

“So it’s still a tie?” you asked. 

“Unfortunately,” pride chimed in, only minor disdain sounding through. 

Mammon faked a yawn, waving his hand with flair to prove his boredom. “No one even wins? Whatta waaaste.” 

Satan’s brows deeply furrowed at the words. “I’m _not_ settling for a tie.” 

Lucifer’s eyes challenged his younger brother. 

Suddenly, you caught an idea. 

“Oh!” you perked up, gripping the edge of the chess table, rocking it slightly. “Instead if playing another whole match, I have a suggestion for a tie breaker.” 

Really though, you just didn’t want to have to withstand anymore of the dreadful game. They’d been at it the entire evening! 

You thought quickly how to word it so the demons’ may actually heed your suggestion.

“Okay, so, it’s a human world tradition. Even the most reputable kings of our past used it to settle disputes,” you lied right through your teeth. Here’s to hoping the demons before you were dumber than they looked—when it came to earth realm culture, at least. 

The Avatar of Pride’s eyes slid to meet yours, already appearing skeptical. You held up your right hand as if to swear on a holy book. 

“I swear! It’s an ages-old method of selecting a successor. I’ve seen it documented in several history books when I was topside,” you shot Satan a glance, trying to drive your point home to his area of intrigue. He looked as if he almost believed you, although truly he just desperately wanted to defeat his eldest brother at the game. If this helped him acquire his success, then so be it. 

Never taking their stare off the other, Lucifer and Satan spoke in unison: “What is it?” Immediately following were mirrored glares. 

You grinned. You knew you could reel them in.

“It’s called _Thumb War_.”

You felt the gaze of every demon focus on you at once. 

“...That sounds dumb,” piped Mammon, who now drearily leaned his head on your shoulder. You quickly edged an elbow into his side, throwing a look and trying to shut him up. He retreated, scooting away across the floor with a pout. 

Asmodeus rested his head on the back of the couch he’d plopped on, looking back at you.  
“I’ve never heard of that. Surely there’s something sexier we could try~” he flashed a perfect set of whitened teeth. 

You groaned with exasperation. “Have you all no class?! This is a _very_ sacred rite!” 

You quickly formed another bright idea, and you whipped your head around to face Leviathan. 

“Levi! Come here, please,” you let loose your puppy-dog eyes. In return you were gifted a brief whine as the purple-haired demon rose from his seat to walk to you. When he was close enough, you snatched the Switch out of his hand and pulled him down, placing him in front of you. He briefly made grabby hands at his handheld, but you set it in your lap. He blushed just at the thought of his fingers brushing your thighs to retrieve it, so he let it be. 

Levi’s topaz gaze met yours with question. 

You warmly smiled at him and simply raised your hand, extending a single pinky. 

“Heard of a pinky promise, Levi?” 

His eyes instantly exploded with adoration. He rocked forward in excitement, leaning into you.  
“Y-Yeah! I’ve seen it in _so_ many shoujo anime! It’s really special! They’re supposed to be unbreakable bonds!” 

You nodded, all too proud that this seemed to be working out. You knew the lovable otaku could assist you yet. 

“So, I’m giving you a pinky promise. Here,” you took him by the elbow, easing his hand up to mirror your gesture. Wrapping his little finger with yours and placing your other hand around the bundle, you bowed your head as if in prayer. 

“I, the dutiful human of the House of Lamentation, solemnly swear that this Pinky Promise™ ensures the authenticity of the aforementioned ritual of _Thumb War_.” 

Raising your head, you caught Levi looking all-too bashful with his hand clasped in yours. He wouldn’t tell you, but you’d basically just acted out a scenario from one of his favourite shows, _The Pinky Promise of Truth, Love, and Betrayal: A Tale of Secrecy (not to be confused with The Pinky Promise of Trust, Lust, and Busty Babes: A Tale of Sexiness)_. 

“Now,” you glanced around at the ethereal beings gathered near you, “do you believe me?” 

Leviathan answered for the group, cheeks still pink. “Of course! Nothing breaks a pinky promise.” He looked to the Avatars of Pride and Wrath, determination shining in his face. He placed the hand that had held yours over his chest. “I, Leviathan of the House of Lamentation—The Avatar of Envy, vouch for my human’s words!” 

Success washed over you at the same time that you felt heat lick your ears, the slightest bit embarrassed. You distinctly heard Mammon grumbling somewhere behind you, catching the whisper, _”not yours, ya know...”_  
You shook your head and handed Leviathan back his handheld.

Rising to stand by the brothers locked in a harsh stare-off, you raised your hands like a referee signaling the beginning of a match.  
“‘Kay. We all trust me, right?” 

Lucifer quietly snorted. “I would not go that far.” 

You rolled your eyes and balanced your hands to your hips instead, appearing dramatically irritated.  
“Well, if you don’t want my help, that’s fine. Stare daggers at each other until morning for all I care,” you turned to act like you were leaving, waiting for someone to call your bluff. 

Satan fell into the trap, snatching your wrist. You let yourself grin while you were still turned away. Twisting around, you looked expectantly at the blonde. The green of his eyes flowed like poison. 

“Stay. Show me how to win.” 

You flashed a smile, giddily returning to stand at their side. You coaxed the right hands of Wrath and Pride onto the table, stabilizing their elbows. They only resisted when you pushed their hands together. 

“What are you doing, human?” murmured Lucifer, more agitated than you honestly expected. 

“You’re always so difficult, Luci,” you retorted bravely. His eyes told you to watch where you stepped, but he made no further comment.  
“It’s called _Thumb War_ for a very literal reason. It’s a battle of brawn, but who’s to say brawn has to be presented only in large quantity? So whatcha do is take the hand of your opponent like this,” you demonstrated with your own hand in Lucifer’s, wrapping your fingers in a spiral with his. The leather of his glove was warm compared to the chill of his presence. 

“And then from there, the objective is to try to lock down your opponent’s thumb for five seconds, like this,” you pressed down Lucifer’s digit, surprisingly receiving no resistance. Joy hit you briefly at the ease of the exchange with the eldest brother. 

Though a moment too soon, however, as Lucifer tightly gripped your hand and pulled you to him ever so slightly. If not for his firm hold, you’d have stumbled directly into his lap. A partially stifled insult drifted in the air behind you—no doubt vocalized jealousy from Mammon. 

Red eyes danced with mischievous intent, dark like the sky before a storm. Lucifer seemed no more fooled by your antics than you felt safe within his gaze. If he thought you were deceiving the brothers, though, he didn’t say it. 

He released you with a minuscule smirk. The spread of heat across your face lapped at your ears. Attempting to just move out of your embarrassment, you spun in place to look at the Avatar of Wrath. Somehow, he was the easier brother to deal with at the moment. 

“S-So, do you understand the rules?” your voice was just barely too high pitched to read as casual. 

Satan waved you away, impatient. “Don’t insult me; the simplicity is undeniable.” He extended green-tipped claws out to his eldest sibling. 

Goodness, you had such _lovable_ housemates. At least that broke you out of your shy stupor. 

With reluctant precision, the demons of pride and wrath bound together their hands. More than effort was needed to keep a smile from working onto your lips as they glared across the table. 

You resumed the position of referee, this time placing a hand over the clasped fingers of the challengers. 

“Alright, on my mark. One, two—wait, wait,” you held up an authoritative finger, looking like a mother ready to scold. The brothers slid their gazes to you in question.  
“Absolutely **no** breaking your opponent’s hand. Got it?” 

Satan’s meek twinge of his brow alerted you to his guilt. Had he been toying with the idea? Honestly, did you live with demons or just exceedingly violent and immortal children? 

You huffed in unison with Lucifer. His impatience was growing. 

“Let’s stay on tracks, boys! Alright, here we go. One, two, three, four, I declare a _Thumb War!_ ”

You relinquished your hand and back peddled instantly, bumping into Beelzebub. All the brothers (minus Belphie) had returned to stand behind you, watching the showdown. 

“What’s going on?” Beel asked, leaning down to you. He quietly munched on some fire roasted devil’s pepper chips. 

You curled your lips in mischief at the Avatar of Gluttony. “Oh, just having some fun.”  
If he understood your ploy, he didn’t let onto it. Instead, he simply pushed a chip to your lips, clearly more concentrated on the snacking. 

You didn’t take the offering for granted; it wasn’t often Beel even remembered others not only enjoyed but _needed_ food. You accepted, crunching happily along with him. The orange haired demon graciously shared every other chip with you. You only retreated with a blush when he took your chin in his palm to wipe a stray crumb from your lips. 

Turning back to the battle at hand, you hadn’t missed much. Opposite the stark sheen of concentration on Satan’s face laid the surprisingly amused expression of Lucifer. 

Each of their thumbs locked over the other’s in a cycle, never lasting more than a second. So much of you wanted to laugh, to let any of them know how silly it was what was happening, but you let yourself enjoy the inside joke alone for now. 

But suddenly, the referee was needed as Satan had firmly gotten hold of the gloved thumb of his brother. You didn’t notice Lucifer’s eyes on you as you counted, hand up in the sky as if to wave a flag. 

“Aaaand—GAME!” You pumped your fist into the air, entirely too gung-ho. A lackluster jumble of voices mumbling behind you indicated you were definitely the most excited of the wrathful blonde’s victory. 

Looking to Lucifer to observe his take on the loss, you noted the sly wink he gave you. It went unnoticed by the brothers now gathered around Satan, clapping his back in congrats. 

Did he...? 

You smiled at the eldest. If he wanted to play games, you surely could too. It was game night, after all. 

Cheerily, you clapped your hands together and gazed upon your victor. 

“Congratulations, Satan! As a reward, I humbly offer you anything I can grant you within the bounds of this room.” You grinned from ear to ear. Honestly, the cute look of success radiating from Wrath did wonders on your heart. 

At your words, however, the green of the demon’s eyes clouded over in calculated thought. He tilted his head at you so slightly as he rose from his chair. 

“Oh, anything within the room? Though I’ll be honest, it’s not much.” He glanced around at his brothers as if to prove his point, saving his eldest brother for last. His eyes lingered purposefully longer on Lucifer before he turned back to you. 

The faintest smirk graced his lips. Emerald eyes twinkled with intent. 

“I want you to kiss me.” 

You nearly choked on the open air. A ferocious blush decorated your cheeks. A choir of demonic voices sang their various perceptions of the request. You heard vague indifference from Beelzebub, no doubt grumbling with a mouthful of chips. Leviathan flushed a bright hue of pink and mumbled to himself, looking at the ground, while Mammon couldn’t seem to stumble over his words fast enough. 

A clear contrast to his brothers sat Lucifer, as collected as ever while he gazed at you. You just missed the silent drag of his eyes closing, quelling the demonic possession that lied within him, frothing at the mouth. 

Standing across from you, Asmodeus chided the blonde, “Any reward and you choose a kiss? You’re missing much _naughtier_ opportunities here, Satan! I advise a do-over,” the demon of Lust transfixed a set of bedroom eyes on your form. “I’d love to see where this potential could go~”

“Oi—what?! There’ll be none’a that! Hands off my human!” Mammon was behind you in a second, glaring with murderous intent over your shoulder at Asmodeus. 

Satan raised his hands in forfeit. “Please, allow me to reiterate. I meant a kiss _on the cheek_ ,” his expression softened into something more carefree, but a distinct glimmer peaked through his lashes. 

Mammon somewhat settled himself, easing his grip away from the hold he’d had on your wrist. You hadn’t even noticed for the initial shock of embarrassment. 

Bringing a clasped fist up to your chest, you resigned yourself and stowed away the fluttering shyness you felt bubbling inside. “Wish granted!”

The determination shining in your face appeared all too cute to the demon of wrath. He almost felt bad for wanting to toy with you. Alas, his guilt would simply have to come later. 

He curled an index finger at you, beckoning you closer. “Come here.” 

Your confidence faltered all too easily at the simplistic air of dominance around the demon. Regardless, you willed your lower limbs to bring you forward to him. 

The sensation of a dozen eyes on you did little to settle your racing heart. Truly, a kiss on the cheek was no big deal—but these were _demons_ surrounding you, beings more powerful than you could ever honestly fathom. 

Their sheer collective beauty and overwhelming allure didn't help, either. 

Satan gazed at you sweetly, basking in your new proximity. He remained expectant, quiet as he watched you. 

He found the hesitance in your movements adorable. He had never realized how pleasantly innocent you were. Maybe you just needed a nudge. 

The demon angled his head and rhythmically tapped a green nail to his cheek, pointing out your mark. 

The taunt filled your chest with purpose. A faint pout adorned your face as you rocked onto your toes. You steadied yourself against his chest with a feather touch, closed your eyes and leaned into him to press your lips into the apple of his cheek. 

You met the softness of his mouth instead. 

Satan had effortlessly twisted to meet your kiss head-on at the last second. The ghost of fingertips along your chin held you for a brief moment, deepening the contact. He tasted subtly of sweetness, like green tea and honey.

Your mind caught up to the sensations of your body, and you finally managed to stumble backwards and into the greedy hands of Mammon. 

You hid the intense heat licking your face with your palm, staring bewildered at the Avatar of Wrath. He peered back at you, satisfaction dancing in his demeanor. He bared a toothy grin, chuckling at your shock. 

You really were _too cute_. 

Mammon threw an accusatory hand over your shoulder at his younger brother. He’d pressed himself into your back, trying to assert his authority over you.  
“Cheater! You lied! I said no!” You couldn’t see him behind you, but you could hear his own fluster in his words. Satan only winked in response, flaming the shy fire in your cheeks. 

Asmo cooed from the sidelines, tapping his feet in joy next to a blushing Leviathan.  
“Can I be next? I wanna kiss, too!” 

Wrapping you in the protective shelter of his arms, Mammon wagged a disapproving finger, “HEYHEYHEYHEYHEY—NO!”


End file.
